Red. Erica Spindler

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      Her expression softened. “That’s a good question, son. It’s one I suggest you think about.”

      His eyes burned, and he lifted his chin again, stubbornly, defiantly. He cleared his throat. “When’s this…this thing going to happen?”

      “I’m going to start working on it right away. The first thing I’ve got to do is find the right space. Will you help me?”

      He let out his breath in an angry snort. “No way.”

      “Fine. I would have liked to have you with me on this, but I can do it without you.”

      “Go for it.” He refused to look at her. “Have a ball.”

      “Do you want to know what I’m going to call it?”

      “Not particularly.”

      She didn’t take no for an answer but then, he hadn’t really expected her to. “The Image Shop. What do you think?”

      “The Image Shop,” he repeated softly, liking the sound of it, hating that he did.

      “Well?”

      He swung toward her, and met her gaze evenly. A dozen different emotions barreled through him, not the least of which was frustration. “I think it sucks, Mom. I think this whole thing sucks.”